


Tethered Flames

by zimathan (skyteglad)



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: AU, Character Death, Demon AU, Demon!Zim, Demoniks AU, Dib is an adult, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Light Horror, M/M, Magic, Not Really Character Death, Soulmates, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:47:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29952924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyteglad/pseuds/zimathan
Summary: Many years ago, a pair of fated lovers met a cruel end, but death is not always the end of the story.Magic and demons were once just a thing of fairytales, lost to restrictions and the passage of time, but as young witch Dib throws himself more and more into studies of the occult, he'll find that there's more to fairytales than meets the eye, and perhaps find someone surprisingly familiar...
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim), Gaz/Tak (Invader Zim), ZaDr - Relationship, tagr - Relationship
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	Tethered Flames

Flames glistened off the walls around the duo, breathing destruction in their wake. An ancient tongue murmured between the two, bloodsoaked hands grasping each other tightly. Another arrow, burning bright with a cinder trail, flashed between them, locking with the old wooden beam.

The enraged yelling, loud and chaotic, echoed around them as the couple found themselves trapped. Cornered. Blackened hands raised into the air, glowing feebly as a barricade floated between them and their assailants.

They just need time. They just needed to buy some time.

_”We’ll be okay, we have to be okay -”_

The frantic muttering in a tongue long outlawed sputtered off into silence as large, reddish eyes glanced behind towards the human that slid down the burning wall. The smoke was thick, and the wounds too deep. He grinned as he coughed out soot and smoke, laughing in despair as tears tried to put out the flames.

_”No, no, no!”_

The creature rushed forward, claws gripping at his partner’s shoulders. The mortal merely shook his head, understanding of what was to come. How this would end. A long forked tail lashed through the air, burnt tendrils drooping down as anguish choked in his throat. 

Gloved, bloodied, burnt, a very human hand reached up to brush against a very inhuman face. Red eyes met with the deep, red gash across the mortal’s chest.

_”We’ve already lost, my love.”_

The admission of defeat was nearly drowned out by the shouting past the barricade. Curses spewed in all directions at the two, and the creature grit his teeth. He couldn’t accept defeat, he could never accept this defeat. Claws gripped the hand tightly, eyes clenched shut as to swallow back the tears that threatened to escape.

They wouldn’t win, couldn’t win. It was already over. But they could still win this war, even in time. This was merely a battle that was lost through death.

_”Can you do magick with me, one last time.”_

The demon’s words croaked from a dry, tattered throat, pleading with his partner to use the rest of his lifeforce to do one last spell. The human, though weak, nodded slowly.

A wooden beam overhead splintered, crackled with the fire surrounding them. The shouting grew closer - words of callousness, words of cruelty. How could humans scorn demons so loudly while echoing the same lies they spewed?

The pink tattoos that lined the inhuman body began to glow a bright white as a bloodied claw dug into the dirt beneath them. Their hands connected, holding each other tightly, while the human mirrored the movements.

The duo began to dig lines into the dirt. Lines, curves, circles. An incantation left their mouth - the human coughed as he spoke, his eyes closed in concentration, while the demon’s words shook, his eyes fixed on his partner.

Fire crackled as the wooden beam fell, spitting dust and soot and dirt around the two - but the sigils were left untouched. Each spoken word was a repeat-after-me, and as soon as the incantation was over, the deep lines in the earth began to mirror that same white glow.

A human life is so fragile. The wounded man - tattered, mortal, weakened… lost his grasp, his hand falling limp against the demon he held onto. There was no dramatic fanfare, no last words, no happy ending. The spell completed, using the last bit of his strength, and as the sigils embedded into the ground began to shine, his life snuffed out.

An anguished whimper exhaled from the last living soul within the room. His claws wrapped themselves around the limp hand, clinging to it as it grew cold, refusing to let go. The smoke grew heavy as he cried, the grief too much for even someone as heartless as a demon to forgive.

The moment the light faded, sealing the spell in place, the barricade fell through. Fire ate past the assailants, but they did not care. Their hearts, filled with so much hate, blinded them to their own hideous fate.

They’d burn alive in this building if it meant a pair of star-crossed lovers got to die with them.

Grief was a powerful thing. It was heavy, straining - and under stress, one is given more power than they can bear. A cold, broken cackle echoed through shattered tears, the last bit of humanity fleeing from those vibrant eyes.

_”You’ve done this.”_

Disgusted shouts spewed in his direction as the demon lay the hand down, gentle and sweet. They grew only louder as he stood, back to them. They shot more burning arrows, but he ignored each one as it burrowed into his flesh, charring the skin before being snuffed out. 

_”It’s your fault.”_

He turned slowly, his inhuman eyes flashing black instead of their vibrant fuchsia hue. Even more slowly, the demon lifted his arms, spreading them out and raising them up - the blood that swam around those claws dripped down his arm, showcasing how the white bands around his wrists had become severed.

The marking of a bond, shattered. His human was gone. There was nothing tethering him down now.

More arrows flew at the creature, who’s tail flicked to-and-fro. Who’s head sprouted horns, back sprouted wings. He grew more and more inhuman as he stared down the mortals who slaughtered his humanity. A low, dangerous cackle wracked through the demon’s body, runes appearing in the air around him. They were made of smoke, the same smog that flooded the room and took away his beloved’s last breath.

Foolish humans - they let fear control them. Let fear guide them. Fear was such an easy excuse - it was inaccurate at best. _Fear_ was never the problem. It was _hatred_. Hatred that muddied their eyes and told them all their worst nightmares were before them.

Well, dear mortal, if a nightmare is what you want, then a nightmare is what you get. 

The runes spiraled around the creature as he spoke foreign letters into existence. A frightened human, filled with visceral hatred and a putrid sense of justice, lunged forward, a sword at the ready.

To think impalement could stop a creature who knew he was on his last breath.

Thick blood leaked from the point of impact, hot like magma and vibrant like the markings on his face, but he did not falter. He merely smiled, a chaotic grin. There was nothing left to lose.

The human, who thought himself a valiant knight, only widened his eyes as hatred burned into fear. Smokey runes solidified in the air, igniting into their own fire as the demon spoke the last word of his magick. If his love must die, then everyone here must as well.

_R e l e a s e._

\--- --- ---

_Ugh... That dream again…_

A yawn wracked through the college student as he pushed himself up out of bed. Bleary eyes blinked fuzziness away as his hand blindly searched for his pair of too-round glasses, and with too much force he crammed them on his face. One glance out the window told him exactly what kind of day it’d be - rainy.

Rainy days were always a symbol of both good and of bad. Most people weren’t _indifferent_ about a rainy day - you either loved them, or loathed them. With a look to the clock on his nightstand, his calendar on the wall, the student let out a long sigh and began his rainy day.

The clouds were thick, dark, but still light enough to be merely a warning. It was a weekend - thank every god in this world. The student, now dressed in his ‘costume’ - as his dad called it - and with his coat over top, grabbed his journal, his pouches, and stepped out into the outside world, grinning ear to ear.

Dib Membrane, ameteur witch-to-be. Well, okay - ‘witch’, with the quotations. It was an outlawed practice, he claimed day after day, but no one really believed that. Not even his sister as she followed him out the door, simply there to cause him some good ol’ sibling suffering. And to go see her girlfriend, but that was just a bonus. 

“Are you really going to go out foraging again today?” The teen, dressed in her own gothic attire - something dad saw as more ‘socially acceptable’ for _some_ reason (she is wearing hairbows and a lolita dress, why is that better than his trenchcoat?!) - simply stated as she followed her brother out the door. While he held his journal and pouches, she held a video game system and a gloomy disposition. “We live in the city, and it’s about to start raining. Can’t you wait a day before you decide to be weird?”

Snorting, tucking his pouches in his pocket and his journal under his coat, Dib grinned wide and nudged her with his elbow. “Don’t you know that the rain is the best time to look for things? Every person hides in the rain - so everything else will want to come out and show themselves.” He shook his head, tutting. “Come on, Gaz, haven’t you read any of those books I’ve given you?”

“No.” The answer was simple, short, and accompanied with an annoyed glance. “Believe it or not, Dib, most people don’t care about forest gnomes and garden flamingos.”

With an eye roll and the shake of his head, the wannabe witch just huffed and put his hands on his hips as he strolled down the sidewalk. “You’re making up the flamingo thing.” Dib waved a hand through the air, making grand gestures into the sky. “ _Look_ , just because _you_ can do something better than me without studying doesn’t mean it’s not something _worth_ studying! You don’t care about all this ‘occult’ stuff, but you still mimic my potions and make them better.”

He huffed indignantly. “Just because you’re a little better doesn’t mean I have to stand down and let you out pace me. Besides, this isn’t just a ‘forage for herbs’ kind of thing right now - I’m going ghost hunting, too.”

Gaz squinted at her sibling for a moment before turning her attention to her game. “Yeah, okay, good luck with that.” The hint of sarcasm was lost on Dib and she knew it. “But just so you know, I only do those little ‘potions’ because it’s funny to see you upset. They don’t _work_ and you know that.”

“They do work, but we only have the Magic of the Vague, right now.” Amber eyes looked up to the sky, idly watching the clouds swirl slowly overhead. “Hope magic. It won’t look like anything happened, but if you believe it did, it might! It’s vague and stupid and the only magic I can get my hands on, but… it’s a step!”

“Maybe you should ‘hope’ that magic into shrinking your fat head.”

“Hey!” Dib turned said fat head towards his sister, frowning and huffing. “I never asked you to tag along, you know. Go and, and… be gay with your girlfriend or whatever. I don’t know, kiss under a tree.”

A brow raised at the statement, but the teen merely shook her head. “Tak isn’t my girlfriend -” Dib quickly interjected with a ‘yet’, but Gaz kept going. “Regardless, fine. I was planning on meeting up with her in a bit, I just wanted to torment you a little first.” She paused for a moment, reaching into the little satchel around her shoulder and pulling out an elegant looking umbrella. 

Wow, she really did go full gothic lolita today, didn’t she.

Folding the umbrella out, Gaz gave her brother one last look. “Do us a favor and don’t bring any ghosts or demons home. Dad and I might not believe in them, but the second I hear you squalling about being a fuck up, I’m just going to get mad.” 

Dib mimicked her under his breath as she turned and walked away, sticking his tongue out last second because immaturity was fun amongst siblings. “Yeah, yeah, don’t bring anything home. Got it.” Grumbling, the boy took out his phone and started up his GPS. 

Rain had begun to trickle down by the time Dib had reached his chosen location. Overgrown with plants, the abandoned building was perfect. Moss and vines stretched up the walls, tearing into the cracks of the house and helping rip it apart from the inside. An assortment of different overgrowth littered the yard, with tangles of grass covering old rusted sheets. The building was long since abandoned, just outside of one of the many suburbs around the city. A sign posted up beside the tattered, old mailbox solidified all expectation that no one lived here anymore - foreclosure.

From the man’s research and understanding, this house was to be demolished in about a month - probably due to how bad a state it was in. No fence sealed the property from the outside, so with a couple of glances around the neighborhood, Dib began to sneak his way through.

The grass and overgrowth were thick, roots tangling around his feet as he walked; wading through becoming a task in and of itself. Hidden metal chunks threatened tetanus as his leg barely scraped past, and once through the worst of it, Dib became aware of just how tattered the building really was.

It hardly stood tall anymore, the wood far too old to stand through much more weather. Spider webs, long since abandoned, covered the doorway and the porch leading to it - a few abandoned wasp nests also covered some of the holes. The porch itself was weathered with creaky wooden beams and the consistent risk of falling through. He made a mental note of this, eyes on the splintering wood. Finding a good spot to sit - or, well, a safe spot to sit, free of webs and broken wood - Dib took out his journal, jotting everything around him down.

The plants that circled the property, slinking up the building and helping demolish it too early, were perfect for many things. Listing what he could identify with certainty,, writing descriptions for those he wasn’t sure about, he decided what all he’d want to take before he went home for today. Once he was done, Dib wrote up a little plan of action and stood once more.

The door to the house no longer really worked - it only took a good push before it caved under the pressure and opened wide for the boy. Not much furniture remained inside anymore - most had been taken before the foreclosure, he assumed, but a few pieces still stood here and there.

Sunshine was not something one could rely on anymore. Rain was now pouring from dark clouds, the sun hidden far above them. Dib’s phone battery was pretty good - a comfortable 93%. The flashlight setting turned on, and the exploration began.

Moss and mold littered the insides, an antique wooden table - splintered from age and weathered by water damage - sat in the center of the dining room near the entrance. Some shards of glass sat on the floor - Dib assumed from an old mirror - and after some studying of the shards, he took a nice sized piece. 

Maybe it was the innate fear that abandoned buildings gave off, maybe it was the creepy vibe media had sewn into these places, or maybe it was his magical intuition going off - but Dib felt something here. Something was here, something dark and otherworldly, and while the average man would be put off, Dib couldn’t help but get more excited. More eager. Using the mirror as a makeshift scrying tool, he held it up before him, turning around and examining the rooms before him.

The layout of the house seemed pretty easy to follow. The front door had a hallway that went straight back, with what Dib assumed to be the dining room on the right and a doorway to the living room on the left. A staircase bisected the hallway past the living room entrance, leading to the second level, while the hall continued to the rest of the bottom floor.

The scrying glass showed nothing around him, nothing to worry about, and once he was certain he could continue on, he did so. Debris cluttered the dining room - chunks of ceiling landing both on the floor and on the old table. Entering the dining room pointed to an entrance to the kitchen - as Dib followed, he pulled his shirt over his nose, scrunching his face up at the strong musty odor of the house.

It was probably mold, and it seemed safer to not breathe it in directly than to do so.

Shining his light into the kitchen, Dib admired the old cabinets that lined one side of the wall, the sink - rusted and no longer working - that hid itself between those cabinets and the shattered window behind it. There was no fridge and no stove, but that was to be expected, he supposed. The light fixture overhead seemed to have captured a heavy layer of gunk, staining the bottom of the glass black as he flashed his light over it. Even if the power here worked, this room wouldn’t illuminate much.

Floorboards creaked as he walked across them, scouring the rooms of the first level. Every so often, the witch would lift his mirror, shining it around the room in hopes to capture some sort of figure in his sights - but, alas, nothing would show.

The kitchen connected to the main hallway, which led into a bathroom and a small room. Nothing of note was in either, and upon entering the living room from the otherside, Dib began to grow disappointed. There didn’t seem to be anything on the bottom floor of this house - nothing but debris, an old piece of furniture too big to get through the door, and dust. A lot of dust.

Every so often, a few dust particles would catch his eye as they drifted through the light, and a spark of excitement would occur - only to be crushed at the realization that, no, these were not ghost orbs, they were just… dust particles. Despite the disappointment of no supernatural activity thus far, the atmosphere, the environment… they all fed into a specific little part of Dib that constantly hungered for more.

Even if he couldn’t find a ghost or ghoul, a fae or anything else, this was at least satisfying the niggling need of adventure and exploration of creepy places. So, all was not lost. Hell, if he couldn’t find anything, at the very least he can scout through at the end and take some cool pictures.

A long exhale escaped as he finished his circuit around the front door. “No ghosts, that sucks.” Dib brought a hand to the back of his head, rubbing against the shaven part of his skull, grinning weakly. “Ah well. The plants should be useful, and maybe some of this debris too!” Lifting the mirror shard into the air, the boy stuck his tongue out as he looked around once more. “Not to mention this mirror! A few souvenirs won’t hurt, and at least if I take them from a not-haunted place, I won’t get cursed or anythi --”

Freezing still, amber eyes widened as he stared into the mirror. Behind him he could see something - something not usually there. A figure, maybe? Without a second thought, he whipped his head around, glancing for the figure he could’ve sworn he’d seen. Nothing there.

It had been near the stairs, and maybe it’d just been a trick of the eye, but… Frowning, the human let out a breathy laugh and looked again at the mirror. Nothing in the reflection, nothing in person…

“Man,” he smirked nervously at himself, lowering the shard, “I got so freaked out I forgot about the rules of scrying.” Never look behind you if you see something there.

Tugging his coat closer around himself, Dib shook off the adrenaline that coursed through him. “It’s no big deal, though, right?” He muttered to himself, shining the flash of his phone around him just in case. “Usually when people say that, it’s to imply something’ll, like, run at you… right?”

Damn, he wished he knew more about scrying.

“Get it together, Membrane. Don’t be so freaked, I mean…” Still, he was talking to himself. “We did come here for a ghost! Yeah! Ha! Ya hear that, ghost, if you’re really in here, I’m here to find you!” Now he was shouting at maybe-ghosts. Okay, this whole ‘crazy’ thing was getting a little out of hand.

It was just a trick of the eye, anyway.

Biting his lip, Dib pressed forward, beginning up tattered wooden stairs. The paint on the walls had long since begun to flake off and peel, and the stairs looked more barren then they had any right to be. He was careful, fully aware of how fragile these steps were - too much weight in just the wrong place and it’d crumble.

The stairway felt too long. Way too long. It was beginning to get concerning, but as soon as that concern appeared, he’d reached the top. The second floor was… pretty barren. It was small, with one slim hallway that branched into two separate bedrooms and ending with a bathroom in the middle.

Bathrooms were easy, boring. The toilet and sink had been taken, so the only thing there was a cracked bathtub with some dirt on the bottom. Nothing special. The left room - that, too, was nothing special. It was small, empty. Not even a nightstand still stood. Not even a bed. There had once been a closet, but even upon entering it brought no excitement.

Those first two rooms were just… empty. Debris littered the floor, dirt and dust and grime lined the walls, a window once stood in the bedroom but it had been shattered. There was nothing here - which made the last room more daunting. More terrifying.

There couldn’t just be _nothing_ up here. There had to be _something_ , and there was only one room left for there _to_ be something. 

His guard was officially up, tense as he approached the final door. This building wasn’t empty - it just… couldn’t be. The rain overhead pounded against the roof, wind whirring through the trees and plants nearby. Drops of water splattered across the weathered wooden floor. Everything felt so suspenseful, so surreal - behind this door there had to be something.

Breath hitched in his throat, Dib put his hand on the doorknob. He was slow, cautious, pushing the door open. Listening to the _creeeeeak_ of the hinges. It felt cold, now. It was so dark, and dreary, and, and…

Behind the door…

There was nothing.

The boy stood there in the doorway, unable to breathe as he stared into the room before him. Absolutely empty. The window within was not shattered, but it was old and grimy. Cobwebs lined the corners, ceiling debris scattered across the floor, a single wooden chair lay sideways against the ground…

But that was it. The disappointment was almost deafening as Dib released his breath, brows furrowed as he scanned the room again and again. The chair, that was weird, but that was… that was it! Just a chair. Nearing the closet, opening and examining it, provided nothing as well.

What the hell.

What the actual hell!

“Oh, come on. Really?” He hissed to himself, lifting the mirror up and searching for something, anything in here. It was cold! (The wind was blowing inside.) It was dark! (The clouds blocked out the sun. There was no electricity.) It was old and gross! (It was an abandoned building.) Why was there nothing _here_?

Grumbling, Dib stepped out of the room and checked the hallway in his mirror. Nothing. The other room. Nothing. The bathroom! Nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing!

Letting out a loud exhale, his arm dropped to his side, his flashlight lowering to the ground as he sighed. Man, it really did feel haunted here - but, no, it was just another disappointing place with nothing but cobwebs.

Well… while this wasn’t a haunted location, it still was really cool. He had to remind himself of that. Forcing some optimism, Dib reminded himself of the good in this place. It was creepy, abandoned, and felt sinister - even if there was nothing here, no creatures or ghouls, it was a nice place! A place with history, and substance, and mold!

Chuckling softly, the boy lifted the mirror up one last time. “Maybe there’s no paranormal creatures, but at least I got to find that out for myself.” Mumbling to himself, Dib paused before the stairs, eyes searching the mirror for one last opportunity of spotting something unusual. “I guess I can get some pictures and get some of those plants. The cobwebs, too - those might be useful…”

Thunder boomed in the distance, startling him as he jumped, taking a step back. Damn, he hadn’t expected it to be raining _this_ hard. 

A flash of lightning shone behind him, breaking through the shattered glass and illuminating the hallway behind him. The light, the brightness - it broadcasted a shadow right behind him, plastering itself against the wall. No one was there, none he could see through either his eye or his mirror, and yet the shadow of a figure - fuzzy and intangible - shone right there.

Dib choked on his own air, sputtering as his eyes grew wide and as the seemingly everlasting illumination of lightning finally flickered away. He spun around, flashlight searching frantically for what he just saw - but nothing was there.

No. Absolutely not.

The human was strong, he was very thick-skinned when it came to the concept of the paranormal, but he knew better than to stay here one more second. Letting out a nervous, anxiety-ridden chuckle, Dib backed into the stairs, spun, and raced down them.

Wood splintered under his heel, but he did not care and did not stay in place long enough to fall. The last stair was reached without issue, and the door was so close -

He fell.

Tripping on the final step, the human let out a yelp, flinching as the shard of glass cut into his hand. He gripped it tighter, despite the pain, and threw himself backwards to see what made him fall. A… a book…?

Eyes glancing from book to the top of the staircase, another flash of lightning illuminated a figure before him. This time, it wasn’t within the scrying mirror, it wasn’t a trick of the eye. It was dark, featureless, a mere shadow - but it was real.

Holy fuck, it was _real_.

Adrenaline kicked in in full. Pushing himself up, Dib grabbed for the book, yanking it from the ground in one last act of defiance, before turning and ramming himself against the door to the outside.

It burst open at the seams, barely still attached as the boy stumbled outside into the rain. Wood creaked and whined, threatening to give in as he rushed down the steps and through the metal ridden forest. His foot tangled with the overgrowth, and it felt as if he were being grabbed, but Dib didn’t stop. He pushed forward, pulling with all his might, and soon enough he reached the sidewalk. With one final glance towards the building, Dib could have sworn he saw fire burning within, but within a blink it was gone.

Rain pounded against his form as he ran. He ran towards home, the tome he had taken crammed in his jacket like his own journal. It wasn’t until he reached town that he slowed, gasping and panting for air and ducking under some shade. Dib wheezed, letting himself catch his breath - and as soon as it was caught, he glanced down at his findings.

His phone was pocketed swiftly, and the remaining things left in his hands were the book and the shard of glass. Wincing at the slice across his hand, Dib tucked that away in his pocket as well, shaking his hand in the air. Damn, he was going to need to bandage that soon. As for the book…

While his curiosity was strong, the human knew he’d need to head home first before he studied its contents. The rain overhead seemed to have stopped pouring as hard, but it was still enough to leave Dib soaked. Tucking the tome back where he could keep it safe and dry, the boy let out an exhale. It was time to begin his long walk home.

The only thing keeping him hesitant,

was the sound of a too-loud breath right behind him.


End file.
